Cadence
by Kirii
Summary: Miles couldn’t tell his best friend that his brand-new stereo was alive. Oh, no. Sam was much too paranoid for that. -- Youngling warning. Very vague hints of slash, but there won't be much of that overall.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Okay, this? Started as a one-shot. It's going to be at least a few chapters. =S Anyways, sparkling!Blaster plotbunny kidnapped from kirin_saga on livejournal. The Blaster-muse demanded I write it.  
**Warnings: **Sparkling alert. Attempted humor. Teenagers. Maybe slash, if I feel like it.  
**Disclaimer:** They're not mine, but I like to play with them anyways.

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* * *

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Chapter One

When Miles first noticed that his brand-new stereo would be on when he got home from school, he thought nothing of it. He often left his stereo on low volume when he left the house in the mornings. He'd come home, drop his backpack on the floor, turn up the tunes and go to his computer to play a few hours online until his parents came home from work. Nothing about his stereo seemed strange to him at all.

That is to say, until he came home one day to find his stereo jumping up and down on his bed.

At first, all he could do was stare, slack-jawed, at the little robot. He could tell at first glance that the robot was, indeed, his new stereo; it had armor the same bright red-orange color as the body of the stereo and the speakers on its legs were the same shape. The deck of the CD player was on the robot's torso and Miles could see through the clear cover the Seether album he'd stuck in there that morning.

The robot, happily bouncing on the mattress, was blasting music from the local rock station through its speakers. It made a sort of electronic clicking as it bounced, almost like it was singing along with David Draiman as the singer belted out "Indestructible" on the radio. Its optics just barely peeked out from under a light silver visor, an unearthly bright blue light that shone against dark gray facial features.

Miles dropped his backpack with a heavy thud and the sound of the impact of the textbooks in the bag hitting the hard wood floor caught the attention of the little robot. It immediately stopped jumping, turned off the music and looked at Miles. Its blue optics met the blond teenager's gray eyes and the two of them just stared at each other for a moment.

The little robot gave a few garbled clicks before stating in clear English, "Uh-oh."

"Holy shit," Miles said.

The robot stayed on the bed for a couple minutes. Miles, more curious about it than afraid, approached slowly, not wanting to startle the robot. The robot's optics remained focused on the boy, though it obvious was prepared to make a run for it. Miles reached the side of his bed and knelt down on the floor. An awed grin appeared on the blond's face as he got himself eye level with the robot.

"This is so cool," he said. "What are you?"

The robot cocked its head to one side. "Name's Blaster."

"Blaster," Miles repeated, intrigued. "I'm Miles. But you probably already knew that. You've been living with me for a couple weeks."

The little robot cocked his head to one side and chirped. It was difficult to tell expressions on a robotic face, but judging from the way his bright optics blinked, Miles guessed that Blaster was a bit confused by the long string of words. The blond teenager gave a soft grin, deciding to make the best of having a sentient robot for a stereo.

"So, you like music?" he asked.

At the question, Blaster's optics brightened and he nodded happily. He chirped again and switched on his radio, changing the station to something a little better to dance to. He settled on the local "we play everything" station and started moving about on the bed, shaking his body and hopping up and down to Rhianna's "Don't Stop the Music."

Miles sat back to watch, crossing his legs underneath him and bracing himself up with his arms. He was content to just nod his head to the beat of the song and let Blaster have his fun. The little robot was obviously enjoying himself and Miles was not going to intrude on that. For the next couple of songs, he enjoyed his new friend's dancing while he thought on what he was going to do about this.

Having a dancing, chirping, _living_ robot for a stereo was cool, but at the same time, how was he going to hide it? Oh, sure, he'd have no problems keeping Blaster a secret from his parents; both of them worked long hours and even when they _were_ home, they rarely came up the stairs to the attic that Miles had made into his bedroom. Mason wasn't allowed in his room, since Miles was afraid the Mastiff would destroy something in there if he ever got the chance.

Miles' problem however, was not the dog or his parents. No, nothing like that. His big problem was Sam. His first thought was to call his friend up and have him come over to check this out, but he thought that over again. No, he couldn't tell him about it; Sam was much too paranoid for that. He remembered quite clearly Sam's phone call a couple months ago about his car being Satan's Camaro or some such thing. Introducing Blaster to Sam would surely give the other teen a heart attack.

Deciding that, Miles turned to Blaster and waved at him, trying to get the robot's attention. Blaster looked at him and switched his music off, plopping down to sit on the mattress. Miles leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge of his bed and studied the little robot.

"Okay, Blaster," he said, giving a serious look. "We need to set some ground rules."

Blaster tilted his head. "Rules?"

Miles nodded. "Yeah. For safety. You understand?"

Blaster gave a nod of his own. Miles gave a light smile and took in a breath.

"Okay, so. First off, don't let anyone else see you," he told the robot. "Mom and Dad aren't home a lot, so you're okay there. But Sam comes over and hangs out a lot and he'll freak if he finds out you're alive."

He waited for Blaster to acknowledge him. He was trying to keep things simple, not wanting to confuse the little 'bot again. While he wanted to make sure Blaster was safe while he stayed in the house, Miles kept in mind the fact that Blaster _was_ a robot and, without a doubt, alien, so he was a little cautious about putting any restrictions on him. Y'know, just in case it upset him and he wound up frying Miles. Better safe than sorry.

Once Blaster gave a clicking chirp in response, Miles continued. "Second rule: stay in my room. I don't think you want to catch Mason's attention. He's big enough he could probably break you by sitting on you."

At Blaster's confused look, Miles explained that Mason was his dog. He showed Blaster a couple pictures of the Mastiff on his computer and the little robot was surprised at the size of the canine. He quickly let Miles know he'd stay in the room.

For a while, they continued to talk about precautions to keep Blaster a secret, but eventually, both of them got bored of that and Miles decided to introduce the little robot to one of the multiple online games that he was involved in. Blaster settled himself on the back of Miles' chair and watched over the teen's shoulder, intrigued by the games, but really more interested in the music that played over the speakers as Miles played.

With human and robot both involved in the game, neither of them noticed when Miles' mother came home. It wasn't until her voice traveled up from the bottom of the stairwell that led to Miles' room that either of them knew anyone else was in the house. Miles looked towards the door, then met gazes with Blaster before the little robot jumped onto the bed and transformed into his stereo-mode as the two of them heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Mile's mother peeked into the room. "Hey, sweetie," she smiled. "How was school?"

"School?" Miles repeated, flicking his eyes towards Blaster to make sure the stereo-bot wasn't doing anything odd. "Oh, it was good. Yeah. Got an A on that project you helped me out with."

His mother's smile brightened. "That's good!" Her expression shifted from proud to the usual 'mother means business' frown. "Oh, your father's boss invited us out to dinner tonight, so I want you to shower and get ready to go."

"What?" Miles groaned. He had been hoping to spend a little more time with Blaster that evening.

"You heard me, mister," his mother replied. She turned on the steps to head back down to the main part of the house. "We leave at five, so hop to it! Don't forget to feed Mason!"

As soon as Miles heard his mother close the door to the stairwell, he flopped onto his bed with an irritated moan. The impact of his body hitting the mattress made Blaster jump into the air in his stereo mode. The little robot transformed as he came back down and stepped over to his human friend, resting one hand on Miles' shoulder and chirping softly, as if to ask what was wrong.

"I hate going out to dinner with my parents," Miles muttered. He didn't elaborate, dropping the subject as he lay on his bed for a few minutes before standing up again. "Well, better shower."

Blaster blinked his optics at Miles as the boy headed down the stairs. Miles looked back at him and gave him a wide grin.

"You know what, Blaster?"

Blaster tilted his head in question.

"I'm glad I got you," Miles told him. "It's kind of nice to have someone to hang out with here."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Yeah, it's rather short, but that felt like a good place to end for the first chapter. The title might not yet make sense, but it will eventually. More on the way! Stick around, leave a review, boost my ego._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**__ I'm glad to see that you all enjoyed the first chapter. Hopefully, I don't disappoint anyone with this one. Apologies for the wait on this chapter. It's been rough. DX  
**Warnings:**__ Mentions of character deaths, implied Prowl/Jazz.  
**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, never will, but that doesn't keep me from having fun with them. _

**Chapter Two**

Moonracer paced the length of Optimus Prime's office on the subterranean Autobot base as she waited for her superior officer to arrive. She'd been in a frenzy since she'd arrived on Earth. She and her teammate, Chromia, had arrived to the Autobot base much later than the other two who had been with them when they entered Earth's atmosphere. The green-armored femme wrung her hands together in an anxious manner.

The door to the office opened and Optimus Prime stepped inside. Towering over the femme's eleven-and-a-half foot frame, the leader of the Autobots was an impressive mech to stand by. Moonracer's spark pulsed in its chamber, intimidated by Optimus' presence. She held her ground, despite feeling like her circuits were about to short out from her panic.

Optimus walked past Moonracer and took at seat at his desk. His blue optics rose as he looked at her. "Chromia informed me of the reason to your delay," he told her.

Moonracer slumped. "I'm sorry, Optimus, sir," she said, her voice quiet. "It's all my fault! I was the one who lost Blaster. I was supposed to take care of him and I couldn't even get him through the stratosphere!"

Optimus raised a hand to interrupt her. "I understand you feel responsible, but there is still a chance that he survived the descent. Our scanners are searching for him now."

Moonracer's head rose slightly, her pale blue optics peek up to focus on the Autobot leader. "Sir…?"

"A youngling his age is a precious sliver of hope for our kind, Moonracer." Optimus leaned forward, resting his arms on the surface of his desk. "We cannot sit idly back while there is a chance to find him. Our human allies are using their own resources to help track him down."

Relief pulsed through Moonracer's frame. "Thank you, sir," she murmured in gratitude. Her voice rose as she straightened herself. "If I may, sir, I'd like to continue to search for him as well. Jazz put me in charge of him, after all."

Optimus nodded, his optics dimming in remembrance of his fallen first lieutenant. "Of course."

"Thank you, again, Optimus Prime."

The green-armored femme gave a respectful bow, which Optimus acknowledged with a nod of his head. He allowed her to leave so she could get back to her search for the missing sparkling. After Moonracer was gone, Optimus stood up and left his desk to approach the west wall. On the wall, the Autobot leader kept a large monitor with images of his fallen soldiers on its screen. He stepped closer to it, raising one hand to the screen. As his finger brushed across the screen, images and data changed until he stopped on the images of two particular Autobots.

Optimus looked at the screen. Jazz's image looked back at him with a crooked grin over his lip components. Next to Jazz, there was a picture of Optimus' once-loyal second-in-command, Prowl. Prowl's face was serious as it'd always been. Beneath the pictures of the two soldiers, Cybertronian text read their designations, positions and the stellar dates that they were lost.

The Autobot leader hung his head in solemn respect. "You may have regained each other in the Matrix, but you've left behind so much."

* * *

Saturday morning. It was an unwritten rule of every teenager in existence that Saturday was the day to sleep in until noon and Miles was a careful follower of this rule. The blond lay on his stomach in bed, blankets pulled up over his bed and his face buried into his pillow. Soft snores escaped his open mouth as he slept.

Blaster, on the other hand, was already out of his recharge cycle. His external radio was off, as he did not want to wake his new friend. Instead, he'd plopped himself in front of Miles' television and was watching the Saturday morning cartoon run. He'd seen Miles watching television several times while the boy still thought that Blaster was just a stereo. The shows seemed to entertain the teenager, but Blaster found many of them boring.

After an hour or so, Blaster heard his human friend begin to stir. The small robot stood up and hopped onto Miles' bed, chirruping at the boy. Miles hid further under his blankets with a groan of protest and an unintelligible mumble. Discouraged, Blaster switched his stereo onto a rock station. The loud music finally got Miles to sit up, blinking his eyes blearily at the little robot.

"Blaster, do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked.

Blaster chirped and pointed to Miles' alarm clock. The red numbers on the digital face told him that it was eight forty-five. Miles raised one hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes for a moment before he flopped back down onto the bed, burying his head under his pillow.

"It's too early to get up," he complained.

Blaster frowned. He crossed his arms over his small body and tapped the fingers of one hand on the arm it rested on. He remembered his guardian often doing that when he was doing something she didn't like. The metallic taps only made Miles hold his pillow more firmly against his ears. Frustrated, Blaster finally cycled air into his systems and then let out a loud, high-pitched electronic screech.

Not only did Miles roll and fall out of bed at the sound, but the noise rattled the window overlooking the street in front of the house, woke Miles' parents downstairs and sent Mason into a barking frenzy. Miles quickly held his hands up and waved them in an attempt to get Blaster to stop screeching.

"Blaster!" the teenager exclaimed. "Stop, stop, stop! Don't do that, you'll bring my parents up here!"

The little robot did stop, but Miles could hear the heavy footfalls that alerted him to his father's flight up the stairs to his attic-bedroom. He jumped up and looked at Blaster, hastily telling the little robot to hide. Blaster continued to frown at him for a moment, but transformed into his stereo mode just as the door to Miles' room opened and a bleary-eyes, unshaven, robed Darryl Lancaster appeared in the doorway.

"What was that noise, Miles?" he asked.

"What noise?"

Darryl eyed his son. "Don't you 'what noise' me, buddy. I know it came from up here!"

Miles' eyes flickered to where Blaster was sitting on his bed, looking to the unknowing like your every day stereo. Darryl caught the movement of his son's eyes and followed their path to the stereo.

"Is your stereo acting funny?" he asked.

"You have no idea," Miles murmured under his breath. He hoped his father would just figure some kind of electronic glitch and leave it at that.

No such luck, however. Darryl went over to the bed and reached for the stereo, picking it up. Miles held his breath. If Blaster did anything odd (or worse, transformed) while in Darryl's hand, then both he and the robot were in trouble. Miles could only hope the little guy would behave for a couple minutes.

Darryl looked the stereo over, testing its weight in his hands as he examined it. Blaster, despite that it kind of tickled to have a human turning him over in stereo mode, managed to keep himself in check. He didn't liked having the various buttons on his front plate pushed or the knobs of his alt mode twisted, though, and when the human began playing with them, he couldn't help letting out a warning growl.

Darryl frowned at the growl, then set the stereo down. "You should take this thing back where you bought it, Miles," he told his son. "Get your money back. It's probably defective."

Blaster let out another electronic growl. He did not like this human. Miles, hearing the growl, gave a nod in his father's direction, then ushered him out. Darryl left, heading downstairs to put on a pot of coffee. As soon as he was gone, Blaster returned to robot mode and crossed his arms over his chest, blue optics narrowed in anger.

"Am _not_ defective," he growled.

Miles gave a sigh and dropped down on his bed. He gave Blaster a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, I know," he told the little robot. "Dad thinks you're just a stereo. He doesn't know you're actually a robot."

Blaster gave a final growl, then sat down, curling up next to his human friend. Miles leaded back, propping himself up with his arms. He yawned, still tired, but too awake to crawl back into bed to fall back asleep. He thought about what to do now, but then he remembered how determined Blaster had been to get him out of bed.

"Hey, Blaster," he said, catching the little robot's attention. "What was so important you had to wake me up before noon?"

Blaster looked up at Miles, looking a bit confused for a moment. Then he remembered. "Hungry."

Miles paused, blinking his eyes in surprise. "Robots get hungry?" He thought about this for a moment. "What can I do about that? I mean, you probably don't eat like humans do, so it's not like I can get you a bowl of cereal. What do I feed you? Batteries?"

Blaster blinked back at Miles. "'Nergon."

"What?"

"'Nergon," Blaster repeated.

"What's 'nergon' supposed to be?" Miles asked. He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress. "Great. I have a stereo that's really a robot and it's hungry. And I have no idea what 'nergon' is."

Blaster stood up. He reached down and tugged at Miles' shirt sleeve, trying to get the teenager to sit up again. He pointed to the window. "'Nergon. We go find."

"You've got to be kidding me," Miles muttered. With Blaster persistently tugging at his sleeve, he had relatively little choice but to get up and throw on clothes and shoes. Wondering how to transport Blaster, Miles looked around his room for something to carry the little robot in. His eyes eventually settled on his backpack. He quickly emptied it out and gestured for Blaster to hop inside.

Blaster looked into the backpack and gave a sniff. He gave a disgruntled chirp and a violent shake of his head in disgust. Miles gave an apologetic grin as the little robot looked at him with an expression of disbelief.

"Sorry, I know it smells like old gym socks, but it'll have to do."

Blaster gave him another look and reluctantly got in the pack. Miles left the pack half-zipped so that Blaster could peek out, but not fall out while they were out. Grabbing his wallet, Miles headed downstairs. He stopped briefly in the kitchen to put food in Mason's bowl and make sure the mastiff had plenty of water before he left the house, giving his father the excuse of going over to Sam's.

Going around the house and towards the garage, Miles looked around to make sure none of the neighbors were outside; with Blaster peeking over his shoulder, it would be really awkward to have to explain the little robot. Opening the door to the garage, Miles stepped in and began hauling his bike out. He climbed onto the bike and, after making sure that Blaster was safe and secure in the backpack, rolled down the driveway and began pedaling down the street.

"So where can we find this 'nergon' of yours?" he asked.

Blaster gripped the handle of the backpack he was riding in. "Find 'Racer, find 'nergon."

"Racer?"

Blaster chirruped, but didn't elaborate. Miles figured it was because, even though the little robot could speak, his English was limited. As he pedaled down the street, Miles kept an eye on Blaster through the mirrors posted on the handlebars, watching the little bot for directions. Blaster pointed every so often for Miles to make a turn as they searched for what the little robot wanted.

They'd gotten a couple miles from the house when Blaster suddenly ducked into Miles' backpack with a startled wail. Miles squeezed the handbrakes and the tires squealed as they came to a stop. He turned his head back to try to look into the backpack for Blaster.

"What? What's wrong?"

Blaster gave a series of clicks and whirrs in response. He remained hidden in the backpack for several long moments before poking his head back out. His blue optics were flickering and his little lip components were quivering. Miles frowned; he didn't like this.

"Blaster, you have to tell me if something's wrong."

"Followed," the little robot managed.

Miles' eyes widened. "What do you mean, we're being followed?"

Blaster gave a shake of his head. "Followed!"

"If we're being followed, we have to head somewhere it's safe," Miles said, chewing on his lower lip. He wracked his brain trying to figure out where a good place to hide would be. Beginning to pedal again, he turned off the street they'd been on and headed down a smaller road. "Hang on, Blaster. We're going to Sam's house."

Blaster nodded and hid back in the backpack. Miles sped up, lifting his body off the bicycle's seat to give a little more momentum as he headed down the street.

A block or so behind the blond teenager, a bright blue Toyota RAV4 moved forward to continue following.

_**Author's Note:**__ Again, apologies for the wait and I hope I don't disappoint. I don't remember what Miles' last name is, if he even has an official last name. I hope Lancaster is right, because I know they have him listed as Miles L. on the search engine and I remember someone else using Lancaster. =/ Anyways, review, let me know what you think. See you next chapter!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:**__ Again, sorry for the wait. I've had massive writer's block, but I'm trying to get my writing groove back. I made this chapter a bit longer than the previous one to make up for having you wait. Thanks to everyone who has left reviews! Your reviews make my day!  
__**Warnings:**__ Nothing to warn about this chapter.  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, but I have a plan to get them. Hasbro won't know what hit them. 3_

**Chapter Three**

Judy Witwicky sat on the comfy sofa in the living room, a large ceramic mug of hot coffee in her hands. The bitter smell of the dark liquid was a welcome aroma as she breathed it in. She'd added a couple ounces of her favorite creamer to add a sweet scent under the much stronger smell of coffee. The heat of the coffee through the mug warmed her hands and the heat ran through them to her arms. She gave a delighted hum at the warmth and aroma and lifted the mug to her lips to take the first long sip of coffee.

Before the rim of the mug even touched her lips, the doorbell rang, announcing a visitor.

"Oh, for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "It's not even ten o'clock yet!"

Hands still gripping the cup of coffee, Judy stood up and marched over to the door. If this was one of those early door-to-door salesmen, first cup of coffee or not, she was going to dump it in the man's face. No one interrupted her morning coffee and escaped without second-degree burns, at the very least. Swinging the door open, Judy was about to reprimand the too-early visitor, then stopped herself when she saw Sam's friend, Miles, standing on the porch.

"Well, well, Miles," she smiled, attitude making a one-eighty. "What brings you here so early?"

"Is Sam up?" Miles asked, sounding out of breath and, to Judy's surprise, more than a little edgy.

"Not yet," Judy replied. Her eyebrows furrowed together in worry. "Is something wrong, Miles? You look like you've seen…" She bit her lower lip. She'd almost suggested that the teenager had seen a monster and considering the events that the Witwicky family had gone through only a few months ago, the suggestion seemed all too much of a true possibility. "Why don't you run upstairs and wake Sam," she told the boy. "I'll get you two some coffee."

Miles nodded and rushed up the stairs. "Thanks, Mrs. W!"

Judy stood at the foot of the staircase with her cup of coffee. She stared up after Miles until the boy disappeared around the corner to Sam's room. Her eyes widened as she thought that she might have spotted a small metallic hand peeking out of Miles' backpack. Shaking her head, she told herself that she was just seeing things; after all, she still hadn't drank her morning coffee and was still shaking off sleep. As if to prove this point to herself, she took a long sip of the steaming coffee she held in her mug.

"If there was anything going on, we'd know about it," she told herself, peeking out the window towards the garage.

* * *

"Sam! Sam, wake up!"

Sam Witwicky snapped his eyes open with a start. He shot up in bed and shot a surprised glare at his friend, who stood only a couple feet away from his bed. With a shake of his head and a hand running through his hair, Sam fought off the urge to fall back to sleep. A yawn escaped him and he stretched.

"What are you doing here so early, Miles?" he asked.

"I was being followed, Sam," Miles said. "I couldn't think of anywhere else."

At his friend's answer, all thought of going back to sleep disappeared from Sam's mind. Oh, sweet Jesus, no; not now. It was too soon. "What do you mean, you were being followed?"

Miles went over to Sam's window and scanned the street outside. "I mean I was being followed," he told Sam. "You know, someone was tracking me."

"Who?"

"Like I know!" Miles replied. He turned to his friend. "You gotta help me, man."

"Miles, if this involves the cops," Sam started, moving to get out of bed.

Miles interrupted him. "It's not the cops," he said. "It's someone else. _Something_ else. It's a long story."

Sam's heart sped up as Miles spoke. This couldn't be good. He glanced in the direction of the garage, then picked up his cellphone from its place on his bedstand. A quick look at the screen told him there were no messages. Between Miles' anxious actions and his own secret, Sam was getting worried.

"Miles, sit down," he said, gesturing to his desk. "Sit down and tell me what's going on." He needed to know what was making his friend so freaked out.

"Dude, I told you, I was being followed!" Miles told him. It was taking the blond teenager everything he had to keep from telling Sam about Blaster.

"_Miles_," Sam stressed. He looked at his friend with a serious expression on his face. "Just sit down, calm down." When the other teen finally plopped down in the swivel-chair in front of the desk, Sam took a breath. "What aren't you telling me?"

Miles hesitated. He really hadn't intended to tell Sam the truth, considering his friend's history of overreaction and paranoid phone calls about possessed cars. However, he'd come to Sam for help and he needed to be truthful. He swung his backpack off his back and brought it in front of him. Reaching for the zipper, he looked up at Sam.

"You have to promise not to call me crazy," he said.

Sam nodded. "No problem."

"I'm serious, Sam," Miles told him, eyes focused on his friend with a somber expression.

"Alright, alright, I promise," Sam replied.

A sigh escaped the blond teenager. He kept his hand in place over the zipper of his backpack. "Remember I told you that I bought a new stereo a couple weeks ago?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbling in his chest. "What about it?" he asked, trying to be nonchalant about it.

"It's alive, Sam."

And with those words, Sam sat back down on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. "Oh, boy."

"See, you _do_ think I'm crazy," Miles said. He looked away from Sam and down to his backpack. "I knew you would. Granted, I thought _you_ were crazy when you called me about your car."

"Did you bring it with you?" Sam asked, looking back up at his friend.

Miles paused. Then he nodded. "Yeah, he's in here." He unzipped his backpack. "Come on, Blaster."

Sam tilted his head slightly at the name 'Blaster' and stared as a small metal head popped out of Miles' backpack. Miles half-expected Sam to jump and shout when Blaster stared at him, but the other boy remained sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes carefully watching the little robot. Blaster took a moment to study Sam before crawling out of the backpack and leaping down to the floor. He approached Sam and tilted his head at the teenager.

Sam took a long minute to study Blaster in return, a little wary of the robot. When he spotted a familiar insignia on the little bot's chest, he let go of the breath he'd been holding, then leaned back so he was sitting up straight. He looked up at Miles.

"How long have you known he was a robot?" Sam asked.

Miles gaped at his friend. "That's it?" he muttered. "A little robot jumps out of my backpack and all you can say is 'how long have you known'?" He shook his head. "I don't believe this. Where's the paranoid 'my car is stalking me' Sam that I know?"

Sam gave a sigh. "Miles, it's a long story." He stood up and grabbed a pair of jeans, pulling them on over his boxers. Not bothering to change his shirt, he headed out of his room, gesturing for Miles to come with him. "Get your friend back in your bag. Mom will freak if she sees him."

Blaster wasn't too happy about having to hide in the backpack again, but he hopped back in. Miles slung the backpack over his shoulder and followed Sam downstairs. Sam slid on his shoes and went through the back door. With his friend just beside him, the brown-haired teen crossed the yard to the garage.

"Sam, what's going on?" Miles asked, now suspicious. The way his friend was acting, he was beginning to think that there was more to this than he could see.

Sam didn't reply until they reached the garage. As soon as the door was closed behind them, he turned to Miles. "Look, Miles, this is top-secret," he told the other teen. "I mean, government-sealed top-secret. There are only a handful of us who know about it."

Realization dawned on Miles. "You know something about the robot, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Sam admitted. He glanced at his car, sitting silently in the garage. "Bumblebee might know more."

"Who?"

Sam turned to his car and gave a nod. Miles stared at the Camaro as clicking filled the garage and panels of the car's body began shifting. Within moments, he found himself face-to-face with a set of bright blue optics, not unlike Blaster's. The robot that had just been his best friend's new car chirruped at him and said 'hello' in plain English.

Miles stood frozen in his place, eyes wide in awe and a bit of fright. His jaw dropped, mouth gaping open wordlessly. He could feel Blaster moving around in his backpack and heard the zipper being moved. A chirp by his ear brought Miles out of his stupor as Blaster hopped onto his shoulder. The small robot chirped again at the much bigger robot, which led to the two of them exchanging words. Or so Miles thought; he wasn't sure at all if the metallic noises were actually words or not, but there was definitely some sort of speech going on between Blaster and Bumblebee.

"This is unreal," Miles murmured.

"Oh, it's very real," Sam told him. "Real and secret." He looked at Miles, a serious expression on his face. "You can't tell anyone about this--about Blaster or Bumblebee."

"I wasn't even going to tell _you_ about Blaster," Miles replied. "I figured you'd freak out on me. But you were so insistent on me telling you the truth."

"Glad you did?"

The blond gave a shrug. "I guess." Then it occurred to him that there was still the matter of who or what was following him and Blaster. "Whoa, Sam. What about who was following us?"

Sam started to say something, but was cut off by a short sentence from Bumblebee.

"No Decepticon activity within range," the large bot said.

"Decepticon?" Miles repeated, turning to Bumblebee with a questioning look on his face.

"The bad guys," Sam explained. "Bumblebee is an Autobot, one of the good guys. And judging from that symbol on Blaster's chest," here he pointed to the small 'bot, "so is your friend."

"What do you mean, bad guys and good guys?" Miles asked, reaching up to pull Blaster down from his shoulder. "Just how much do I need to know here?"

"Just a minute," Sam told him. "We need to figure out who was following you. What can you tell us?"

Miles took a moment to reflect on the hurried bike ride to Sam's house. He looked down at Blaster, who looked up to exchange glances with the blond teen. "Well," Miles began, "I didn't really see anyone following us. Blaster was the one who told me we were being followed."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and looked up to Bumblebee. "What do your scanners tell you?" he asked the yellow Autobot.

Bumblebee's eyes flashed briefly from blue to white as he activated his scanners. After a long moment of silence, the scout shook his head. "Scanners pick up nothing," he told the humans, using an audio clip from a popular sci-fi show.

Miles frowned. "But there had to be something following us," he insisted. "Whoever or whatever was following us had Blaster freaking out on me."

Again Bumblebee shook his head. Using his own voice again, something that he was still getting used to, he gave an explanation. "Blaster is a youngling. His scanners are glitchy. He could have easily picked up interference from an internet hook-up," he said, giving a slight metallic cough as he spoke. His shifted, tilting his head. "We should take Blaster to base," he added. "Optimus will be pleased to know there is still a youngling in the universe."

Having said that, Bumblebee transformed, returning to his vehicle form. He popped open his doors for Sam, Miles and Blaster to hop in. As Miles walked around Bumblebee, he let his eyes run over the smooth, new vehicle.

"At least now I know how you managed to get a brand new Camaro," he muttered.

Sam laughed, getting into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," he told his friend. "It's a long drive and Bumblebee has a lead foot."

* * *

"'It's a long drive,'" Miles quoted, after several hours of driving. "You said nothing about it being three states away!"

"Actually, it's only two states away," Sam replied.

Bumblebee had driven up Interstate 5 through California and Oregon before turning off onto I-84 East. For the most part, they'd been moving all day, save for traffic jams and rest stops. While Sam acted like he was driving for the sake of not raising suspicion, he told Miles everything he knew about the Autobots and the Decepticons. There was no point holding things back from his friend now that Miles knew about Blaster and Bumblebee.

During the beginning of the trip, Blaster had been hopping around in Bumblebee's back seat, sneaking peeks out the windows at other cars that passed by, watching the scenery and pointing at various things in curiosity. Sometimes, out of boredom, he'd switch on his stereo and play some music, often battling Bumblebee for choice of song. Towards the middle of the afternoon, the youngling curled up on the seat and went into recharge.

The sun was beginning to set when they finally reached their destination; somewhere in north-western Oregon (1). The nearest town was twenty-something miles and the few cars that had been on the road with them only ten minutes previous were gone. Bumblebee turned up a dirt road and drove for a couple more miles before coming to a stop at a dead end.

"This is it?" Miles asked, looking out the window.

"We need to get clearance from Optimus," Sam explained. He indicated a video camera in a tree to his left.

Miles blinked at the camera. "How is that working all the way out here?"

There was a rumble beneath them and Miles grabbed the seat he sat in, wondering if it was an earthquake. To his astonishment, the hill that they were parked in front of was opening, revealing a metal corridor. As soon as the 'door' was completely open, a series of soft blue lights flickered to life along the walls and Bumblebee slowly began to drive in. The corridor lead down into the earth and Miles couldn't help both wondering how deep this base went down and how long it would be before a sudden case of claustrophobia kicked in.

Blaster woke up as they reached the end of the tunnel, picking himself up and rubbing gently at his optics with his small hand, as he'd seen Miles do before. He hopped up to Miles' shoulder, his bright blue optics wide as he saw the large room that Bumblebee had driven into. Sam told Miles to get out of the Autobot's cab as Bumblebee stopped. The blond teen popped the door open and did so. With Blaster still on his shoulder, he stood straight. As soon as both teens were out, Bumblebee transformed.

A few minutes later, a door on the east wall opened and two more robots came in. One was a small green robot; she, for the build of the robot clearly suggested femininity, couldn't have been much more than ten or eleven feet tall. She smiled as she turned her bright blue optics on Miles and the tiny robot on his shoulder. The second, much larger, robot loomed over the first, easily making nearly thirty feet tall. He stood tall and proud, blue and red armor shining in the light of the room.

"Welcome, Sam," the second robot greeted, deep voice rumbling through the room. "Welcome, friend of Sam. We have been expecting you."

Miles stood, neck craned to look at the tall--so freaking tall--robot. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging agape and barely a squeak coming from his throat. Sam couldn't help but laugh at his friend. He elbowed Miles and the blond came to his senses long enough to stammer a hello. Blaster leaped from Miles' shoulder to bounce to the femme, Moonracer, who welcomed the youngling with open arms.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're safe!" she cooed.

Blaster nuzzled against the femme. "'Racer!"

Miles regained himself and looked at the green femme. It clicked in his mind that the femme had to be the one he and Blaster had set out to find that morning, so many hours ago. Now that he had gotten over the initial shock of seeing the other robots, he began asking questions, starting with the most basic.

"Who are you?"

The large robot introduced himself as Optimus Prime and gestured for Miles and Sam to come with him through the base. Moonracer and Blaster followed the three of them, Blaster chirruping happily in the femme's arms. For a while, the group went through the base, with Optimus giving Miles the grand tour. Moonracer eventually split off, taking Blaster to the med bay so the base medic, Ratchet, could take a look at the youngling and get the small 'bot some nourishment for his systems.

After about an hour or so, Miles, Sam and Optimus rejoined Moonracer and Blaster in the med bay. While Blaster was seated on the berth, drinking a cube of glowing purple liquid as Moonracer watched over him, Ratchet approached his leader, a tell-tale furrow of his optic ridges showing his concern. He took Optimus aside to speak with him for a while. Sam watched the two mechs exit the med bay and was overcome with a feeling that something was up.

Miles, on the other hand, being new to the Autobots, had no idea what to make of everything. He looked around the medical bay, awed at the size of the room, the medical berths of various sizes and heights, and tools scattered throughout the room. It, at first glance, reminded him of the typical auto shop, just tripled in size, at least.

"This is amazing," he told Sam. "I can't believe you never told me about any of this!"

"Government secret, remember?" Sam replied. "Besides, would you have believed me if I had been able to tell you?"

Miles shook his head. "Not even you could make something like this up, Sam. I know you and your imagination."

"Hey!"

Miles laughed, then looked up as Optimus and Ratchet came back into the room. He raised an eyebrow as Optimus kneeled down to their level. Though Miles had gotten over his surprise at how tall Optimus was standing, being so close to the Autobot when he was crouched down gave the blond teen a new perspective. He could clearly see the hundreds of mechanical components that made up Optimus' face alone.

"Miles Adam Lancaster, on behalf of the Autobots, I thank you for returning to us our hope for the continuance of our race," the red and blue mech began.

"Y-you're welcome," Miles said, still somewhat intimidated by the Autobot.

Optimus gave a nod in acknowledgment and began to rise. Sam stepped forward, curiosity welling up inside him.

"Optimus, what did Ratchet have to say?"

Optimus paused to regard the teenager. His optics shuttered briefly. "Ratchet ran a scan on Blaster. The youngling is overdue for an upgrade (2). However, with the limited power of the Allspark shard we recovered from Megatron, and the lack of proper supplies on Earth, a full upgrade may be impossible."

"What does that mean?" Miles asked.

"It means," Ratchet spoke up, "that Blaster may never reach his projected adult size."

Sam gave a frown, crossing his arms over his chest. "And with the Decepticons still out there, that's dangerous, right?"

Ratchet nodded solemnly. "As he is, Blaster is only equipped with secondary armor and no weaponry. Should any Decepticons find him, he would be completely vulnerable to even a single plasma shot."

Miles looked up at Blaster from his standpoint on the floor. Blaster had tossed his cube of energon aside and plopped down on the very edge of the medical berth, legs over the edge as he stared at Ratchet and Optimus. Though a youngling, Blaster could understand that he was in danger, if the grim look on his face was anything to judge by.

"So, you're going to upgrade him?" Miles asked.

"I'll do what I can when I can," Ratchet replied. "For now, I think it would be best that Blaster remain where he can be protected."

"You mean, here?" Miles frowned. He knew it was perhaps a little selfish of him, but he didn't want to leave Blaster here, so far away. Who was he going to hang out with when it was just him and Mason in the house?

Optimus shook his head. "This base will only be occupied for a short while longer. Our presence here is merely temporarily while the base being set up by the U.S. military is under construction. We have received word that the modification of the Diego Garcia base is near completion and we will be moving there."

"Diego Garcia? That's the base in the Indian Ocean, isn't it? That's so far away!"

"We will give Blaster a choice," Optimus continued. "He may join us in the protection of our base or he may choose to stay in Tranquility, with you, Sam and Bumblebee."

"Chromia and I will also be staying in Tranquility, should Blaster choose to stay there," Moonracer spoke up. "As I am Blaster's guardian and Chromia is already in Tranquility."

Blaster looked up at Moonracer, then looked down to Miles. His human friend looked upset at the prospect of separation. Blaster had already stayed with Miles for several weeks and felt comfortable with the teenager. Since he knew now that Moonracer would be there, as well as Bumblebee and Chromia, the choice was simple.

"I want to stay with Miles," Blaster told Optimus, optics set in determination.

Optimus nodded, having expected that response from the youngling. It seemed to him that the friendship between Blaster and Miles was already strong, judging from the grins the two of them shared. "That is your choice, then."

Blaster gave a nod of his own, bobbing his head up and down with a chirp. He hopped down from the medical berth and climbed up Miles' body, perching himself on the teen's shoulder, as he'd come into the habit of doing. He put his hand on the teenager's head, grinning at him.

"Awesome," Miles said, glad to know that he wasn't losing his new friend, after all.

"Totally," Blaster agreed.

Optimus gave a smile of his own. He looked at Miles and Sam. "Tonight, you will stay here and in the morning, Bumblebee and Moonracer will take you back to Tranquility. Blaster will stay with Miles, with Moonracer and Chromia stationed nearby. We will keep in touch."

"And when I have the opportunity to give Blaster his upgrade, I will come and do so," Ratchet added. "We can't let him stay a youngling forever."

Blaster nodded. "Thanks, Ratchet."

Miles blinked. "You talk a lot better than you did before."

"I was able to upgrade his processor," Ratchet explained. "With the upgrade, he was able to properly download syntax protocol to better comprehend the languages spoken on Earth."

"In English, I can talk the talk," Blaster told Miles.

"That's great!" the blond teen grinned. "So we can talk and understand each other?"

"Yup!"

"Good," Sam said. "You guys can understand each other all you want over dinner. I'm starving and the base does have human accommodations."

"Then let's go eat," Miles said.

_**Author's Note:**__ And there we go. Finally, right? I know, I'm horrible for making you all wait so long and I apologize again. Please forgive!_

_(1) I know their official base is in Diego Garcia, but I wanted to play with the idea of returning the Autobots to Oregon. In my mind, they actually have several bases. Considering the location of Diego Garcia, its size and climate, a secondary base in the U.S. probably would be an idea. The Oregon base is temporary at this time, but it will be used again later, after they move to Diego Garcia.  
__(2) For my stories, there are four major stages for a Cybertronian: sparkling, youngling, juvenile and adult. Blaster has been in his youngling stage for this story so far. He will be getting his juvenile upgrade, which will be explained when that part comes along. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **__Sorry guys. Didn't mean to make you wait again. I'm trying to get chapters written, but things just refuse to give me the chance. Don't think this means I'm not continuing, though!  
__**Warnings: **__You may want tissues about half-way through this chapter. Mentions of Prowl/Jazz. And a bit of humor to make up for the need for tissues.  
__**Disclaimer: **__Still don't own them as the jellyfish plan has thus far been ineffective. My epic takeover of Hasbro has been further delayed._

**Chapter Four**

Miles wasn't sure whether or not his excuse of going over to Sam's for the weekend was going to cover how long he'd been gone. Even with Sam correlating the story and calling his parents to make sure Ron and Judy would play along, Miles didn't think his own parents were going to fall for it. He'd been gone too long by the time he, Sam, Blaster and Bumblebee returned to Tranquility late Sunday night and had only called twice -- once to let them know he'd be staying at Sam's overnight and the second to let them know he'd be home late. He was pretty sure that his mother knew he was lying over the phone; Annie Lancaster was a lawyer and a mother and, therefore, she was a professional at catching someone in a lie.

Man, was he going to get it when he got home. Sure, his mother had seemed to play along and given him permission to 'stay at Sam's' and 'stay out late', but she hadn't given him permission to drive with his best friend and two alien robots all the way to Oregon and back. He could only hope that neither he nor Sam fumbled in their cover story of going to a party that night. Given that Sam was a worse liar than he was, Miles was not feeling all that confident.

Even if they did manage to convince his mother that he hadn't been off causing trouble in other states, what was he going to do about Blaster? The young bot had been cooped up in Bumblebee's cab almost all day since they left the Oregon base and it was obvious by the way the little guy was unable to sit still that he was anxious to get out and move around. It was going to be hard to sneak him upstairs and then what? The attic-turned-bedroom wasn't that big to begin with, the floors creaked, and there was no way to muffle the sound of a pair of metallic feet running around.

That wasn't even considering that Blaster would be getting an upgrade soon.

Miles gave a sigh as he leaned against his window as Bumblebee drove closer and closer to his house. They'd be home in just ten or so minutes. Sam was sitting once again in the driver's seat, but he looked as if he was about to fall asleep at the wheel; while he could, since the car drove himself, it wouldn't be good for a cop to pull them over and find Sam asleep in the driver's seat, Miles bored as hell in the front and a bouncing young robot in the backseat.

"What's up, bro?" came a voice behind Miles.

The blond gave a slight jump. He was still new to the fact that Blaster could speak full English now, though with a sort of hip-hop bounce to his speech. He gave his Autobot friend a small grin. "Just trying to figure out what to do now," he said. "Mom and Dad would both freak out if they knew you weren't just a regular stereo."

"No worries," Blaster told him, giving him his own grin. "If you don't want 'em knowing about me, they won't."

"You're okay with staying in my attic?" Miles asked.

Blaster gave a tilt of his head in thought. "Well, I wouldn't hafta stay up there all the time, right?"

"Just when my parents are home."

"Then it's cool!" Blaster said. "I just need to be careful 'round the Mastiff."

"Mason," Miles nodded. "Yeah."

"I bet Blaster could handle himself against Mason," Sam said from the driver's seat. "All he'd need to do is transform in front of him. That dog's big, but he's afraid of his own shadow."

Miles laughed. "That's true."

Bumblebee pulled up in front of Miles' house and gave a chirrup as he stopped. He opened his passenger-side door so Miles could slide out. Blaster has transformed into his stereo mode as they pulled up, so the blond teen had to reach into the back of Bumblebee's cab to pick him up.

"So, see you at school tomorrow," Sam called from the front seat.

"If my mom doesn't kill me," Miles said.

"You'll be fine, Miles."

"Says you. Mom knows exactly where the hide the bodies and how to dispose of evidence."

Sam laughed. "If you don't show, I'll tell the teacher to call the police. Later, Miles!"

Bumblebee gave a chirp and played a sound clip. "Live long and prosper, my friend," came the well-known Vulcan phrase through the Camaro's speakers.

Blaster gave his own farewell through his speakers. "_It's hard to say, it's time to say it, goodbye, goodbye._" (1)

With good-byes said, Miles headed up the path that led to his front door and dug into his pockets for his keys. He unlocked the door and opened it, looking around for any sign of his parents still awake. When no such sign was seen, he closed the door and locked it up again and hurried upstairs, taking the care to hurry as quietly as he could and skip the stair that squeaked. He made it up the first flight of stairs with no trouble and had only just opened the door of the stairwell that led to his attic-bedroom when the door to his parent's room opened.

"You're later than you said you'd be," Annie Lancaster glowered at her son.

Miles grimaced and closed the door again so he could face his mother. "Sorry, Mom. The party ran late," he said, praying that his mother was too tired to see through his lie.

"It's way past your curfew, young man," Annie emphasized. "And it's a school night."

"I'm sorry."

"Your father says I should ground you," the blonde woman added, crossing her arms over her chest, pulling her lavender robe closed over her flannel pajamas. "You want to give me a reason why I shouldn't?"

Miles took a moment to try to think of a reason. He settled on the one thing he could say that always gave him a 'get out of jail free' card. "I'll make you French toast for breakfast."

"Deal," Annie smiled. She gave a yawn and turned to head back into her bedroom. "Don't forget."

Miles gave a nod and a small sigh of relief as he re-opened the door that led up to his bedroom.

"Oh, and sweetie?" Annie called after him.

"What?"

"This happens again and even French toast won't save your butt."

* * *

Blaster woke up and transformed into robot mode sometime around noon the next day. Miles had left for school early that morning and Annie and Darryl usually left for the day around eight or nine in the morning. Sometimes Darryl was called in earlier, depending on whether or not the receptionists at the dental office made appointments for him outside of his usual hours. Today, everyone had left at their usual times and Blaster had free reign of the house. Having never really explored anywhere outside of Miles' bedroom, the little Autobot was rather excited to take his first real look around.

Switching on his radio, Blaster jumped off the bookcase he slept on and bounced down the stairs. He opened the door that led to the second-floor hallway and looked around for Mason. When there was no sign of the Mastiff, Blaster decided to take the opportunity to look around. Humans lived so differently than Cybertronians did. At least, from what he remembered, they did. Though Blaster was far too young to know how Cybertronians had lived before the war, he could remember what his creators had told him when he was just a little sparkling. He remembered what Moonracer had told him.

Humans lived in houses, grouped together and gathered in multitude to create cities, not unlike the cities of Iacon, Praxus and Tyger Pax. Towers and streets gave the cities their distinguishing looks. Humans walked the sidewalks, much like Cybertronians walked their own streets when not in vehicle mode. Human or Cybertronian, their societies held so many similarities.

Blaster continued his exploration of the second story, peeking into Annie and Darryl's room. He crawled up a chest of drawers and flicked on the light-switch, letting the light flood the room so he could see well. He looked at the framed photos on the chest, seeing images of Annie and Darryl during various stages of their lives. Some photos had Annie holding a bundle, a face just peeking out of the cloth. From what he knew, he figured the face in the bundle had to be Miles, when he was a youngling.

Blaster picked up one of the photos of Annie, Darryl and little Miles, his clawed digits carefully holding the edges of the frame. His blue optics focused on the image. Annie smiled brightly up at him from the photo, a glow of happiness over her face, caught by the camera that took the photo. Darryl had one arm wrapped around Annie's shoulders, a large, proud smile on his face as he looked at his wife and son. Miles, just a small creature in the photo, had a bright smile of his own, sitting between his parents, supported by both of them.

Blaster's spark ached as he looked at the photo. He could see the love and devotion that Annie and Darryl had for each other and for Miles and seeing that made the little Autobot think of his own creators. It had been so long since he'd seen his creators. He'd only been a few thousand Earth years old when they were forced to put him in stasis and leave him in Moonracer's care. When he'd been brought out of stasis, it had been ten thousand years since his creators had left him in the green femme's care.

He didn't know where his creators were anymore. When he asked Moonracer when Ratchet upgraded his processor, the femme had given a sad look and explained that Prowl and Jazz had joined with the Matrix. Blaster didn't know what 'the Matrix' was. From the way both Moonracer and Ratchet had reacted, it sounded like it would be a long, long time before he saw his creators again.

With a shake of his head, Blaster set the photo back down and jumped from the chest of drawers to continue exploring. He would have to ask Moonracer what the Matrix was later and what it meant to join it. He wanted to know why he couldn't see Prowl and Jazz. For the time being, he wanted to see more of the house.

Blue optics lit the walls of the room adjacent to Annie and Darryl's. He saw a counter and climbed up to the top, pulling himself over the edge. Standing up, Blaster was startled to see another bot in the room. He moved and the other bot moved with him. Mere seconds later, Blaster realized he was looking at a mirror. He smiled at his reflection and watched himself dance to the music that played through his speakers. Finding little else of interest in the room, other than a strange contraption that sucked water down when he pulled a handle, Blaster left the room to find something more exciting.

* * *

Miles stretched in his chair and tapped the end of his pencil against his desk as the teacher drone on at the front of the classroom. Final period was the most boring and it never seemed to end. He wanted to go home and see how Blaster was doing. He'd made sure that Mason was gated in the basement, where he wouldn't go ballistic if the young Autobot decided to explore, which Blaster seemed intent on doing when they went to bed last night.

"Psst!"

Miles looked over to where Sam was seated. The brunet was leaning over across the aisle while the teacher had his back turned on the class. Miles sat up so Sam wouldn't have to whisper loudly.

"What?"

"Where can we take Blaster to see Moonracer and Chromia this afternoon?" Sam asked. He paused to make sure that no one, especially Trent overheard him. The last thing they needed was Mikaela's beefy ex-boyfriend hearing anything about the Autobots.

"I thought you had an idea," Miles said.

"Mikaela suggested her dad's old garage. It's not in use right now; just got a couple old rust buckets in the corner. No one goes in there and she's got the only key until her dad gets out."

Miles was still often shocked about Mikaela's past. Granted, he'd never had much interest in her, so he never bothered to learn anything about her. Ever since she and Sam had gotten together, he'd inevitably found out more about her than he'd ever expected to know. Finding out that perfect, popular Miss Mikaela had a history was something that had surprised him more than the fact that she was now just as involved with the Autobots as he and Sam were.

Both Sam and Miles quieted down as their teacher faced the class and they waited until he'd turned again to continue their conversation.

"The garage is fine. Anywhere the girls can stand, I guess," Miles shrugged. "You think 'Bee could give me a lift home to pick up Blaster?"

"No problem," Sam told him. "That was the plan. We just had to run it by you."

"Mr. Witwicky, Mr. Lancaster, this is not a chatroom, it's a classroom," the teacher called from the front. "Shut up or detention."

Sam and Miles both quieted down, though Sam mouthed 'meet up after class' before turning back to his notes. Class continued and Miles gave a sigh, turning his head to stare at the clock hanging on the far wall above the chalkboard. Two o'clock could not come soon enough.

When two o'clock did finally come and the last bell rang, releasing the masses from the boredom of final period, Miles, Sam and Mikaela met up outside the classroom before heading out to the student parking lot, where Bumblebee waited in the usual parking spot. The bright yellow and black Camaro flashed its headlights at the three teens, emulating the beeps of a disengaging anti-theft system.

"Hey, 'Bee," Sam grinned as he slid into the driver's seat.

Mikaela slid into the front passenger's seat, leaving Miles to the backseat. As soon as the teens were buckled in, Bumblebee let his engine roar to life. After waiting a little bit for the crazier students to leave the parking lot, Bumblebee pulled out of his spot and towards Miles' house.

* * *

Blaster had checked out every room in the main of the house, murmuring to himself as he discovered new things about the every day life of the humans that lived there. Darryl, he discovered, kept a stash of country music CDs in a hidden compartment of his desk in the den and Annie appeared to have a collection of small stuffed creatures that, after a moment on the human internet, Blaster found were called 'teddy bears' in a large cabinet in the kitchen.

A noise in the basement caught Blaster's attention and he jumped over the gate at the top of the stairs leading down. He chirruped loudly, letting the sound echo down the stairwell. The noise that had brought him over repeated back at him and the sound of heavy movement drifted up the stairs. Blaster headed down the stairs in caution. As he reached the bottom stair, he found himself face-to-face with none other than Mason.

"Heya, big guy!" he greeted the Mastiff.

Mason replied by opening his mouth and breathing on Blaster before drooling on the floor. The large dog gave a tilt of his head at the sight of the little robot that stood on the stair. Blaster gave a metallic cough and waved his hand in front of his face, much like he'd seen Miles do when he smelled something unpleasant.

"Whoa, boy!" Blaster exclaimed. "That's the Pit on the olfactory sensors!"

Mason merely looked at Blaster, tilting his head again in confusion.

"If we're gonna be livin' together, we'd better get t'know each other," Blaster said. He reached out with one hand to pet the Mastiff's head. Mason, for the most part, didn't seem too unnerved by the fact that there was a strange, metal creature in his house, which Blaster took as a good sign. "Easy. Easy…"

Just as Blaster's hand touched the Mastiff's head, Mason gave a single loud bark, causing the little robot to jump up and give a yelp.

* * *

"I'll just be a sec," Miles told Sam and Mikaela as he got out of Bumblebee's cab. He rummaged through his backpack looking for his keys as he headed up the path to his house.

As he reached the front door, he paused and tilted his head. Through the door, he could hear heavy thumps and loud barks echoing through the house. The teen's eyes widened and he gave a loud curse as he hastened in his search for his keys. He found them and unlocked the door, shoving it open and storming in.

"Mason!" he shouted as he entered. "Blaster!"

Behind him, he could hear Sam and Mikaela open their doors and hurry up the path to the house after him. Miles ran into the kitchen to see a mess where Mason's food and water dishes had been overturned. Dog food was scattered all over the floor and there were wet dog paw prints leading across the tile floor into the back laundry room.

"What happened?" Sam asked, joining his friend as Miles followed Mason's prints.

"Mason escaped the basement," Miles replied. "Man, if he found Blaster, we're in trouble!"

"Or not…" Sam muttered, stopping as he caught sight of Mason in the next room. Both he and Miles stood in the doorway, unable to believe what they were seeing.

"What is it?" Mikaela called, coming up behind them with a worried expression on her face. She followed their line of sight and her gaze fell on the scene in front of her. Moments later, the black-haired girl was nearly doubled-over with laughter.

In the all but trashed room, Mason was bucking like a star bull in a rodeo with Blaster riding on his back, one clawed hand holding tight to the Mastiff's collar. The little Autobot was cheering and laughing, clearly enjoying himself as the dog bucked and jumped and ran around the laundry room. Clothes that had been carefully folded and placed inside a basket were now strewn across the floor, wet in spots from water and Mastiff drool.

It took a moment for Blaster to realize that he had an audience. Mason sat where he was upon seeing Miles and happily panted, proud to have been such a good steed for the little robot on his back. Sam and Mikaela were both laughing, unable to control themselves while Miles stood in the doorway, his face contorted in an expression of horror, amusement and shock.

Sam managed to contain his laughter after a couple minutes and slapped his hand on Miles' shoulder. "I don't think you'll need to worry about Blaster and Mason anymore," he said. "They look like they're going to be good friends."

_**Author's Note: **__Again, many apologies for being so lax on updates. But at least you got a good chapter out of me, right? We'll have at least one more chapter of Blaster as a youngling before his upgrade (unless you guys want more), but before the upgrade, I want to ask you readers how you would feel if I made Blaster a Pretender?_

(1) Blaster is playing a clip from Nickelback's "Photograph" here.


End file.
